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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22913515">Falling</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan'>tisfan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>QuakeRider Short and Sexy [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bondage, F/M, Sensory Deprivation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:41:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>577</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22913515</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Robbie Reyes/Skye | Daisy Johnson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>QuakeRider Short and Sexy [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1634146</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Falling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_marathon_continues/gifts">the_marathon_continues</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was always that moment of panic, when the hood went on. </p><p>Her eyes were already covered by the blindfold, earplugs in, and the gag in place. She couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t talk. </p><p>But the hood locked everything in place, a click of the lock that she felt more in her bones than heard with her ears, made her truly helpless.</p><p>She belonged to him. Dependent on him. </p><p>He laid a hand flat on her chest, just above her sternum. Their check in signal when she couldn’t hear him anyway.</p><p>She nodded. And when he didn’t move his hand, she gave him an Ok signal from her left hand, fingertip pressed to thumb, the rest of her fingers spread.</p><p>There weren’t many times when she could get away from herself; she was always going to be Quake, and in some times and places, the Destroyer of Worlds. She needed this, as a way to forget the power she’d become, the destruction and death she’d brought, and just be.</p><p>Human, instead of Inhuman.</p><p>Vulnerable instead of invincible.</p><p>Just a woman, who belonged to a man.</p><p>She could feel him, stripping off the robe and leaving her topless and only in a pair of thin, silk panties. He turned her around and around a few times until she was dizzy and clinging to him to stay upright. She no longer knew which way she was facing. Disorientation made her even more vulnerable.</p><p>He tugged at her wrist and she was forced to walk with him, let him help her, trust him, as he led her-- it could have been to the bed, or the bondage chair, or the bench, or even just to stand in the middle of the room. But he brought her to a halt, and then lifted her. </p><p>Robbie was strong, she knew he could carry her, but it did mean, when he put her back down, and helped her kneel, she wasn’t sure at all where she was. She could have been on a platform, or the bed, or even the floor.</p><p>
  <em>Vulnerable.</em>
</p><p>He tugged her hands up, around a bar, and then to the collar at her throat. Legs spread and ankles locked in place, a bar run between them. Another bar, that clicked in place at her wrists, forcing her chest out, her breasts more prominent and tempting. </p><p>She wobbled a little in the bondage, but his hands kept her steady. But she could fall. <em>Maybe.</em> She had the sense of balancing somewhere. Locked in stocks and a crossbar, maybe, but she could fall.</p><p>Which meant she was even more vulnerable, since she needed to concentrate on staying upright. Her stomach dipped and her inner ear insisted that she was in danger of falling.</p><p>A hand on her breastbone again. <em>You good, girlfriend?</em></p><p>
  <em>OK.</em>
</p><p>A prickle of sensation across her belly, ticklish and stinging at the same time. Deprived of hearing, of sight, unable to use her hands, her skin was more sensitive. It left behind a wave of prickles that she wanted to rub at. Itching.</p><p>She tightened her stomach muscles and tried to stay put. She didn’t want to fall.</p><p>Something wet touched her nipple and she knew that she shrieked, shifting backward. Then her thighs quivered painfully. Still. </p><p>Something unyielding cracked over the padding of her ass.</p><p>It was going to be a long session.</p><p>She quivered in anticipation.</p><p>Human. Vulnerable. Just a woman.</p><p>Who belonged to a man.</p>
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